Case 2593: Who Gives A Rat's Tale
by Shelly Lane
Summary: On the night he commits the highest form of treason, Ratigan looks back on his life, remembering his childhood and how he began his criminal career. Disney owns everything.
1. This Is My Kingdom

**This Is My Kingdom**

Basil was supposed to be here by now. I can't imagine what's taking him so long. Doesn't he know I have an important engagement at Buckingham Palace?

My men keep trying to make me feel better. They hand me glasses of champagne and assure me Basil will arrive in time. They even sing to soothe my seething spirit:

_Let us party!_

_You've got him!_

_This is the night you become royalty_

_Let us all pledge our loyalty_

_To Ratigan, to Ratigan,_

_The empire's king!_

_Hail Ratigan! Hail Ratigan!_

_For our new ruler, let us sing!_

"Not your best work," I tell them. "These may very well be your worst rhymes yet!"

In less than an hour, I will be dictator of all Mousedom. The robot that Flaversham built is rather impressive. It should do the job nicely. When the queen is dead, the members of parliament will be next. Their jobs will be taken by my own henchmen, who will do whatever I say without question. Felicia, Mousedom's soon-to-be princess, will make sure no one ever dares oppose my wishes. Unlimited power will be mine forever! All will bow before me!

There's only one way my plan could go wrong, and that's if Basil refuses to walk into my cunning trap. I sent Fidget to the pub a few minutes ago. I'm sure Basil will be there. When Fidget returns to the lair, the most pathetic detective in the empire will no doubt follow, and then I shall have him! He will never be on my case again!

I'm beginning to worry that he won't arrive. What if I misjudged him? What if he actually solves the case before I can destroy him?

I need to relax. I should begin contemplating which parts of my life history I will share once I am the supreme ruler. All children will learn about me in school, and statues will be built to commemorate important events in my life. I must sort through all my memories and decide what is really important. It would also give me something to do while I wait for Basil.


	2. I Am NOT A Rat

**I Am ****_NOT_**** A Rat**

I wish to make this perfectly clear because it would greatly upset me if I had to repeat the information: Both my parents were mice, so I am a mouse.

I clearly recall my first day of school. Mother and Father wished me luck and hugged me goodbye. I was excited to have the chance to meet other children my age.

"May I join your game?" I asked a group of boys playing tag before class began.

"Not a chance!" one answered. "You're a rat!"

"No, I'm not!" I protested. "I'm a mouse like you. I'm just tall."

"You're no mouse! Go away, you ugly rat!"

It was the same with everyone I met. I was the social outcast. No one sat beside me in class or played with me during breaks. I sat down under a tree by myself and sighed.

"Need some company?" A boy sat beside me.

"Aren't you going to insult me and call me a rat?" I asked.

"You haven't done anything to bother me. Why would I cause problems for you?"

"That sounds logical."

"Want to play chess?"

"I don't know how," I replied. "Is it hard?"

"Actually, it's elementary! I can teach you if you want," he offered.

"What does 'elementary' mean?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's just something that Holmes says a lot, and I want to be just like him."

"Who?"

My new friend gasped. "You've never heard of Sherlock Holmes? He's the greatest detective ever!"

"Is he a mouse too?"

"He's actually a human."

While my friend told me stories about his hero, he also instructed me in playing chess.

He pointed to the pieces on the board. "You can't treat all your men like they're pawns, or it will be easy for me to capture them." He frowned slightly. "I see you are trying to kill my queen."

I moved one of my pieces. "Let's see you get out of this trap."

He studied the chessboard for several minutes. "Aha! Here is a way to save my queen's life and put you in check!"

"Pretty fierce battle we have going here!" I remarked. "Checkmate."

"On the contrary! The game's not over yet!"

The game ended in a tie. Both of us complimented each other.

"You learn fast!" he exclaimed. "Not bad for your first time playing the game!"

"Well, you're a good teacher," I replied.

It wasn't until I returned home from school that afternoon that I realized my friend and I had forgotten to ask each other's names. Having a friend was so wonderful that I almost forgot about everyone calling me a rat; however, I received a painful reminder the next day.

One boy was telling his group of playmates, "Do you see the rat over there? He's too stupid to realize that he was adopted by mouse parents because his biological family wanted to get rid of him. Baby rats are so ugly that even their own mothers don't love them. Rats are so savage that they're incapable of emotions. No one wants to be friends with them, not even other rats."

That hurt. I'd never considered the possibility that I was adopted. Surely it couldn't be true that I was unwanted and unloved!

My friend from the previous day stood up for me. "You should be kind to rats! They're smarter than mice, and one day, you'll probably have a rat for a boss!"

"Oh, look! It's the detective!" one boy jeered. "We'd better be careful before he has us arrested."

"By commenting that I'll have you arrested, you admit your own guilt. If you were good citizens, you'd have nothing to fear!" my friend retorted.

I admired his sharp wit and his resolve not to let anyone's harsh comments make him lose his composure. Furthermore, I was deeply moved that he would stick up for me when we barely knew each other. I knew then that I had a true friend, the kind everyone prays to find.

He turned to me. "I don't associate with ruffians. Let's find something better to do."

We walked away from the mob, and he told me more about Holmes. That day's story involved Professor James Moriarty. I never considered myself easily impressed, especially not by humans, but Moriarty sounded amazing. He seemed like the type of guy who would never allow himself to be tormented by others.

"Holmes is going to bring him to justice someday!" my friend concluded. "Just wait!"

I thanked him for the story, but when I got home, I asked my parents about more important matters.

"Am I adopted?" I queried. "Everyone at school thinks I'm a rat, and I'm already as tall as you are, even though you're adults and I'm still a child."

Mother put her hand to her heart. "Padraic." She embraced me. "True greatness is measured by the stature of one's heart, not physical appearance." She kissed the top of my head.

Father placed a hand on my shoulder. "There's no shame in being adopted. It means you are loved twice as much as others. Your biological family loved you enough to make sure you would get the life you deserved, and your adopted family loved you enough to invite you into their lives."

"So I am adopted?" I asked to clarify.

"Your biological mother was a widow," Mother began. "You were her only child, and when you were just a baby, a cat attacked you. Your mother fought hard and won your life, but she lost her own. As soon as she realized she would not be much longer in this world, she asked a passing stranger to take you to the orphanage so you would be safe, raised in a loving home with a caring family, without fear of the cat."

"Did the stranger do it?" I inquired.

"No." Mother smoothed back my hair. "I was the stranger she begged to help her infant. When I saw your bright eyes and heard your gentle cooing, I knew Heaven had sent me the child I feared I would never have. You seized my heart when you wrapped your chubby hand around my fingers, and when I kissed you for the first time, you smiled at me."

"You both are mice, but I'm adopted. Am I a rat?"

Father took my hand. "It is our personality, not our species, that determines who we are."


	3. Byebye, Basil

**Bye-bye, Basil**

We were outcasts together. No one respected the boy twice the size of his peers or the one who would rather discuss physics than complain about the weather, but neither of us cared. We were best friends, trusting each other like brothers.

"Don't let the other boys make you feel bad," I told my companion. "They're jealous of your wit."

"Don't let them make you feel inferior either," he replied. "You're tops, and that's that!"

One day the bullies proved crueler than usual.

"Do you known what Padraic's last name is?" one asked the others. "It's Ratigan!"

Everyone else laughed.

"I bet he got that name because whenever anyone sees him walk by, they say, 'There goes that _rat again_!'"

Years of being insulted suddenly caused my hand to grab the offender by the back of the shirt and lift him off the ground. My other hand curled into a fist.

"Padraic!"

I looked up and blushed. I hadn't realized my best friend was watching my demonstration of temper.

"Let him go. He's not worth it," he began. "You know what the headmaster will do if he suspects you've started a fight. The scum you are holding is hardly worth the trouble. Don't let him cause you to ruin your life."

My fist slowly started to unclench.

"That's it, Padraic. Show you are more powerful by refusing to sink to his level. You're better than that. I know what he said, and it wasn't right, but he's building his own criminal record. You don't have to let him build yours as well."

I released the bully and turned to my friend. "Thank you for stopping me."

"You're welcome. I understand that sometimes the right thing to do is not the easiest or most natural course of action."

The tormenter faced my companion. "How do I ever thank you for getting him to release me?"

"Next time you are tempted to criticize Padraic, it would serve you well to recall that his claws are longer than the width of your body. As you can see, he is perfectly capable of handling his own problems. You may wish to choose your words with more sagacity."

That stunned them all into silence, and I never heard any cruel remarks from them after that day.

When I was a child, I never understood why adults always complained that youth disappeared quickly. It became more clear to me when my friend made the announcement.

"I have worked very hard to save up enough money to attend the university," he began.

I nodded. "I know you have. Ever since we finished school years ago, you've worked relentlessly to be able to afford to further your education."

"Padraic, I finally have enough! I leave next month!"

For a moment, I was too shocked to speak. Then I smiled. "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you! You'll do well; I'm sure of it!"

"I'm excited beyond words! Just think! I'll get to study mathematics, chemistry, and other fascinating subjects! The possibilities are endless!"

On the day of his departure, I walked with him to the train station and handed him a small parcel. "For the great mouse detective."

He opened it. "A trench coat and a deerstalker cap, just like what Holmes wears!" He slipped on the jacket and placed the cap upon his head. "How do I look?"

"Too giddy. Try thinking of something serious."

"How about now?"

"Much better!"

My best friend sighed. "I also have a gift for you, but now that I see your wonderful present for me, I fear mine is hardly good enough."

"It's the thought that counts, but you didn't have to get me anything!"

He held up his violin. "It seems like only yesterday that we were children, and now we must bid each other farewell. I can hardly believe it's happened so soon. I wrote a song in your honor since I know you love music."

As the violin played, he sang along:

_Goodbye so soon_

_And isn't this a shame?_

_We know by now that time knows how to fly_

_So here's goodbye so soon_

_We'll go our separate ways_

_With time so short, I'll say so long_

_And go so soon_

_Goodbye_

_You stood by me; I stood by you_

_We were each other's companions for a while_

_Now as you see, our time is through_

_So although it hurts, I'll try to smile_

_As I say goodbye so soon_

He finished his song. "What did you think?"

I thought the most beautiful symphonies in the world could never compare with the screeching and caterwauling of that violin, for the song my friend played had true meaning. "You've really outdone yourself!" I complimented.

"You like it?"

"Absolutely!"

"You'll love this next one!" After he played the next song, he explained, "We have to write this one together as friends. I composed the music. It's your job to think of the lyrics."

I did think of the lyrics years later, for I found the tune perfect for bragging about my crimes; however, at the time, I had no idea what life had in store for me.

The train arrived. I didn't know it at the time we took leave of each other, but I was saying goodbye in more ways than one. My last farewell was not only to my friend, but to our friendship itself, for the next time we met, it was to confront each other as enemies.

"Take care, Professor!" He addressed me by the title I had always wanted but never obtained.

"Good luck in your studies, Detective!" I answered. "Remember, you promised to take my case if I ever fall into the hands of criminals!"

"Rest assured of it!"

We shook on the deal for the final time.


	4. My Earlier Crimes

**My Earlier Crimes**

Any of my henchmen reading my memoirs would no doubt ask at this point why I have never mentioned my friend by name. I have my reasons. As long as I write "my friend" and "Basil" as if they were two completely different mice, it is a fairly simple matter to cherish priceless childhood memories while continuing to despise my loathsome adversary. However, using Basil's first name would connect the two, and sentimentality would hinder my progress as the world's greatest criminal mind and supreme ruler of all Mousedom.

Not long after my future rival left for the university, I committed my first real crime. I had been stealing a little money from the wealthy in order to pay rent and buy groceries, but I didn't see that as a real offense. I only took what I needed, and it wasn't my fault that I had lost my job when the printing press was destroyed by the fire. Naturally, I had never told anyone, not even my only friend, about my misdeeds. I was too proud to beg and too ashamed to confess.

Stepping into a pub for the first time in my life, I ordered my first drink. It had been a good day; I had acquired over one hundred pounds and found out I only needed fifty. I planned to save most of it, but I felt like celebrating. One drink surely wouldn't destroy my budget.

"Look at this!" a bar patron shouted drunkenly. "This bar was appropriately named! The Rat Trap has attracted a rat!"

This time there was no one to stop me by appealing to my common sense. I came up behind the miscreant and broke his neck.

Everyone gasped in horror, and the lively pub became completely silent. I clasped my hands together to keep them from trembling as I struggled to suppress the wave of nausea that suddenly came over me. The guilt was indescribable. Silently I upbraided myself for allowing my temper to overpower my reasoning. I wished my biological mother had never saved my life when I was a helpless infant, and I nearly hated the mice who had raised me as their own son.

There was no escaping reality. I was a criminal, a murderer. I had taken another's life. Using my glove to brush away traces of remorse that fell from my eyes, I returned to my table and sat down.

A woman brought me the drink I had ordered. "On the house, sir."

No one had ever addressed me by a term of respect before. I began to feel a strange stirring within my spirit.

"Is there a problem?" I asked in my most polite tone of voice.

"Not at all, sir."

"Then why is everyone silent?" I demanded. "Is this not a place of amusement, a place to relax and drink to the health of friends? If the spirit of merriment is not here, perhaps I should find elsewhere to enjoy myself in good company!"

As the laughter and music immediately resumed and glasses clinked for toasts, I realized what it was that had given me more confidence than I felt. I had seized power. My love for control was stronger than the shame of my transgressions. Any compunction was buried under the delight of complete authority. Without hesitation, I grabbed my victim and tossed his body into the river just outside the bar. I was in high spirits that evening.

A bat walked over to my table and asked if he could sit beside me.

"Sit wherever you'd like! What is it to me?" I replied nonchalantly.

He laughed. "I just wanted to tell you that was impressive."

"Thank you."

"You've got what it takes to be a great criminal."

"I am perfectly aware of that!" I lit my first cigarette and put the end between my lips. It was nothing like I expected.

"Cigarette holder," the bat suggested. "You might like that better." He swilled another bottle of Rodent's Delight.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Just company. It's the last I'll ever get."

"Stop fidgeting long enough to explain the entire story!" I ordered.

He tried to keep still and speak slowly, but his attempts were unsuccessful. "I'm going to jail. Got a detective on my case."

By that time, I was feeling eager to try my skills as an evil genius, even though I had only been a criminal for two hours. "Detectives are easy enough to fool. Someone I used to know taught me all about them."

"Easy for you to say! You're not the one about to be arrested!"

"Look, Fidget…"

"My name is actually…"

"Until you learn to mellow out, your name is Fidget!" I stated.

"Yes, boss."

That startled me. I hadn't known I was taking a henchman, but it seemed to be a good idea.

"As I was saying, it's a simple matter to avoid a detective," I began. "In order to prove it, I will rob three detectives' homes tonight, and if I go to prison, you may taunt me for the rest of your life."

My plan was successful, but it was definitely the work of an amateur mastermind. I left behind so many clues that the three detectives and the constable showed up at my door the very next morning.

"Yes?" I asked innocently.

"All three of us were robbed last night, and we have evidence that suggests you were the culprit," one explained. "Would you care to tell us your side of the story?"

I gasped. "I am appalled! I never thought I would live to see the day when London's most clever citizens, noble servants of the public, would sink to the level of discrimination! Don't try to deny it! Someone broke into your homes, and you can't find a good suspect, so you're choosing to blame someone like me instead of someone who looks more like you! I'm the tallest mouse in the empire, so you think it's alright to mock and ridicule me while citizens of your height literally get away with murder! I am unwanted, undeserving of a place in your pristine community!"

None of them responded.

I pretended to sob. "Go ahead! Arrest me! Lead me away in chains! Lock me in dark confinement forever!" I held out my hands. "That's what you want, isn't it? You want to punish an innocent party, thus saving face by assigning guilt and ridding the community of someone who will never be a true citizen in the minds and hearts of others! Just let me know when you're about to put the handcuffs on my wrists so I can close my eyes!"

"He's faking it!" one investigator whispered. "He's obviously guilty! We have evidence!"

"He's not a criminal," the second one argued. "His mental capacity isn't great enough."

"We can't arrest him!" put in the third. "Everyone will accuse us of being biased!"

They had a debate and finally decided that my incarceration wasn't worth the trouble.

"Excellent!" I exclaimed when they informed me that I could keep my liberty. "Now that you've reached a decision, __get off my porch before you have to arrest each other for trespassing on my property!__"

They ran off in fear. When they were out of hearing distance, I succumbed to the wicked chuckle that had been hiding in my throat.

"Did you see that, Fidget?" I asked.

My new henchman, who had spent the night on my couch, nodded.

"Expect more of the same! Now, let us see if we can find a nice place for our secret lair."


	5. My Precious, My Baby

**My Precious, My Baby**

Word spread quickly throughout the criminal community. I was soon surrounded by felons who admired my great criminal brain. To be sure, I had my share of failures that caused the police to laugh at my pathetic attempts, but I discovered that I didn't have to be a success to achieve notoriety. Infamy is gained through one's reputation, not one's deeds. No matter what happened, I always pretended that everything had gone according to plan.

One night at my favorite bar, I felt a hand resting on my shoulder and heard a woman's voice asking me if I would step outside for a moment. She said she had something to discuss with me. When I turned to see the speaker, I noticed she looked like me, towering above most of the other residents of Mousedom.

When we were outside, I asked, "How may I be of service?"

She laughed. "I think I am the one who can be of service to you! I've heard about the Big Ben Blunder and the Tower Bridge Joke. I've met some of the widows and orphans you tried to drown. You could have destroyed a lot of lives if your ideas had been successful, and now you risk facing death yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't been a criminal for long, have you?"

"Only about six months," I replied.

"I thought so! It's all just a game to you! You don't understand how to make a real career out of it yet! First of all, you're too trusting. Your henchmen are not your friends. They're ruffians, the kind of people your mother always warned you to avoid. If you want to be their boss, you have to prove yourself worthy. You have to come up with plans that appeal to their dark hearts."

"Meaning something impressive that actually works?"

"And pay," she added. "You must pay them very well, and keep all of them out of prison. If you do as I suggest, they'll be willing to do whatever you tell them. If you ignore my advice, they'll tell the police everything about you as soon as they tire of your leadership."

"Very well. Any other thoughts?"

"You're still too clement!"

"I'm a murderer!" I protested. "What's so clement about that?"

"So you're a murderer! What do they care? Some of them have killed more than five innocent citizens! You have a brain and a reputation, but you also have a heart! You need to commit more murders, more arson, and more burglaries than all of them combined if you expect them to submit to your authority! Furthermore, you're forgetting an important detail!"

"What would that be?"

"Detectives earn respect; criminals instill fear. The first time you come across a ruffian who's the slightest bit witty, you will be his employee instead of his boss. You must make it so no one dares oppose your will. Everyone should tremble in fear at the very mention of your name!"

"Even my own crooks?" I asked.

"Your own crooks most of all!" she stated.

"I have much to learn."

She nodded. "That you do."

She taught me all I needed to know about unleashing the fury of my true villainous nature. However, there was one aspect of life that she had failed to mention: Even criminals can have feelings for others. Her cunning did not escape my notice, and neither did her beauty.

"You learn well," she complimented one day.

"There is one important lesson you have yet to teach me," I pointed out.

"What is that?"

"How do I let a woman know I'm starting to love her?"

"You hold out your arms and see what happens."

When I opened my arms, she ran into them. I knew then that I was holding everything I ever wanted, a partner in crime and a partner for life. I typically abhor sentimentality, but I have fond memories of our first kiss.

We almost got married. When I asked a certain question, she accepted my proposal. I could hardly wait to make the announcement to my men, so I asked her to visit my lair.

"Look!" one exclaimed. "It's another big mouse, like the boss!"

"Yes!" I smiled. "She is close to my height and weight. She's the one who has been teaching me how to be a success."

"What's her name, boss?" Fidget asked.

"The more important question is what her name is going to be. Before you is the future Mrs. Ratigan."

For a moment, everyone was silent. I suppose none of them had ever thought I would find the right woman.

Bill was the first to speak. "Congratulations, sir. I hope you and your lovely bride will forever live in complete happiness."

I shook the hand he offered. "Thank you."

He turned to my fiancée. "Congratulations to you too, ma'am. I wish you both the best."

A few days later, I invited her to my lair for dinner. I reasoned that if she was going to share authority of my employees, she should have the chance to get to know them. When we arrived, no one was around. The lair was unusually silent. Thinking that my men were still at the bar when I had specifically instructed them to be here at this time, I started to grow angry.

"Surprise!" My henchmen suddenly jumped out from behind various objects, throwing confetti and releasing balloons.

"Engagement party!" Fidget exclaimed. "Henry's idea."

The worst day of my life happened when I was planning a heist. I couldn't help but think I was forgetting something important.

"Do you think we should tell the boss?" Lewis whispered to his colleagues.

"Tell him what?" asked Robert.

"He's been so busy scheming that he forgot to attend his own wedding."


	6. Basil On The Case

**Basil On The Case**

I took it hard when I lost my chance of being married. I spent one month in utter despair and the next month as drunk as possible. When my henchmen finally talked me into once again being the world's greatest criminal mind instead of the world's most sorrowful bum, I vowed to kill any love I ever found, whether it was the love between a man and a woman, a parent and a child, or even two siblings. Executing vengeance against love itself made me feel much better, and everyone in Mousedom feared for their lives.

I spent the next several months getting as rich as possible, killing wealthy citizens or finding other ways to seize property, whichever I felt like doing at the time. One day, I received a letter from my former friend and future foe. I hadn't told him about my criminal record, but we still managed to keep in touch. This was his last letter to me:

_My dear Padraic,_

_ It seems an eternity since I left for the university, but having completed my course of study, I shall be returning home shortly. I am most eager to meander through the streets of London again and be reunited with my family._

_ From what you write in your letters, you are enjoying prosperity as a wealthy entrepreneur. My most sincere condolences on your broken engagement, but I am pleased to hear that you have since recovered from your profound grief. It appears you are doing well._

_ However, I must confess that I worry about you. Ever since a few months after I left London, I have received word of a most nefarious criminal who ruthlessly terrorizes the city. He is said to be more evil than any felon in the entire history of Mousedom. I greatly fear for your safety. If this fiend should take you hostage, you would be in grave danger. As soon as I return, I shall do my best to see him imprisoned, but you must promise me that you will be careful._

I wasn't expecting the tumult of emotions that hit me as I read the letter. To be recognized by Londoners as a reprehensible felon gave me a joyous feeling of control, but to have my childhood friend think of me as such hurt more than I imagined. The ink on the paper seemed to blur as I rapidly blinked my eyes and tried to swallow the knot in my throat.

"Is something wrong, boss?" Fidget asked.

His voice startled me. I hadn't heard anyone enter the lair.

"Do you know the ancient Greek legend of Damon and Pythius?" I inquired.

"Never heard of them, sir."

I sighed. "I didn't think so."

"What's wrong?" Bill queried. "You look like you've lost your best friend."

I made no reply as I touched a lit cigarette to the letter. Two minutes after the detective arrived home from his studies, he bought a newspaper. Seeing my name in the headlines, he suddenly understood everything.

"If this is the cost of friendship, never again will I allow anyone to get close to me," he whispered to himself.

Always before had he been optimistic and as sociable as possible, but realizing it was his civic duty to bring me to justice, Basil of Baker Street became a true loner. His optimism faded, causing him to suffer with bouts of depression for the rest of his life.


	7. Quite An Ingenious Scheme

**Quite An Ingenious Scheme**

Shortly after my fifth confrontation with Detective Basil, I found a stray kitten. I detest cats, and this one was even uglier than most. I was just trying to think of a way to kill it when I had the best idea of my life. If I could train this miscreant into something useful, I would have a way of disposing of the bodies of all my murder victims.

Felicia must have stayed up late every night to think of new ways to frustrate me. The first night I had her, she tried to put her paw around me. I bit down as hard as I could, and the paw moved. I thought that settled matters, but she limped for the next two days.

"What is wrong with that pathetic wretch?" I demanded.

"She managed to hurt herself somehow, and the wound has become infected," Bartholomew explained.

"That moron! Doesn't she know I don't have time for this?" I lit a cigarette. "Ungrateful creature!"

Bartholomew foolishly spent his wages on a doctor, who was not at all happy to have to treat a cat.

"It's alright, Felicia," Bartholomew soothed, stroking her other paw as the doctor worked. "You're going to be fine. Just be a good girl, and you'll heal nicely."

"Treating a cat!" the doctor muttered. "David is never going to let me live this one down!"

"Who is David?" Bartholomew asked.

"David Q. Dawson, my best friend from medical school. I haven't heard from him in a while, but he tries to keep in touch whenever he can."

"Friendship is futile!" I scoffed.

The doctor changed the subject. "How did your cat get wounded?"

"I bit her!" I answered. "She deserved it for reaching her paw across me!"

"Of course I will not tell you how to raise your own…pet, but you do know that was a sign of her affection for you, don't you?"

I hadn't known, but I wasn't about to admit my ignorance.

Raising Felicia proved to be one trial after another. I knew I had to make her fear me. If I didn't, she would rebel against my authority as soon as she was large enough to swallow me. I also knew I had to create in her a feeling of dependence on me and fool her into believing I loved her and had her best interests at heart. I used teeth, claws, and any weapon I could get my hands on whenever she acted like she might be demonstrating so much as a hint of independence. I fed her well when she obeyed me perfectly, but I refused to feed her for several days when she made even one minor error. To remind her that I was superior, I constantly insulted her and informed her how worthless she was, but I had to be careful enough to throw in a few meaningless terms of endearment so she'd be stupid enough to think I actually cared about her.

After doing all that every day, I was sure Felicia would be willing to do whatever I said, but she always regarded me with mistrust. Every time I tried to stroke her ears in the way that kittens like, she would cower. She trembled every time I spoke, even if I just wished her a good morning, and she always hesitated before accepting food. I never could figure out what her problem was. Here I was being the perfect cat owner and ideal companion, and she was acting like she was afraid of me! To this day, I still can't understand why.

There was one time in her life when she seemed determined to do nothing but irritate me. It all started when she began to ignore food. After three days, she still hadn't eaten, even though I offered her the most delicate morsels.

I thought she must be bored, so I walked with her by the Thames. That moron! She fell into the river and would have drowned if a human hadn't seen her in time and pulled her out!

That night Felicia decided to sleep in the middle of the busiest street in London. I told her to move before she got killed, but she wouldn't listen.

"What's wrong with that imbecile?" I fumed.

"Will you allow me to try to reason with her, sir?" Bartholomew asked.

"Do whatever you wish!"

He approached the listless kitten. "Felicia, sweetheart, I know that this isn't an ideal situation, but taking your own life is not the answer. I know you're trying to starve yourself, and you didn't fall into the Thames this afternoon. You jumped, didn't you?"

She mewed.

"Everyone has times when they think life is hopeless, but this won't solve anything. Besides, if you let yourself die as a victim, it will be like Ratigan killed you. You don't want that on your tombstone, do you?"

Felicia hissed, but she got out of the street and ate her supper.

I stood akimbo. "Care to answer for that little speech, Bartholomew? I know you weren't implying that my pet would rather die than live with me!"

"I was taunting her by using sarcasm, sir," he explained.

"Did she hiss at me, or was it my imagination?"

"She hissed at _me_, boss, not you. Felicia was showing her disapproval for my cruel use of sarcasm against her."

"That's what I hoped she was doing. It would have gone quite badly for her otherwise."

He was always one of my favorites. In fact, he was my best henchman, but I began to hate Bartholomew. When Felicia saw me, she would flinch every time I lightly stroked her fur, and she would never approach me; I always had to go to her. However, when she saw Bartholomew, she would come running, purring and trying to rub against him like cats do to their human friends. I never understood what sort of power he had over her, but I knew as long as he was her friend, I would be her enemy. I had to think of a good excuse to get rid of Bartholomew.

This proved to be harder than I thought. He was highly intelligent, far too clever to say or do anything to upset me. He never argued or made mistakes.

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked myself. "He's not like the other idiots who ramble on continuously in a drunken stupor!" I gasped. "Of course he's not! He doesn't drink! That's how he manages to keep his wits about him! If I could just teach him to enjoy the taste of alcohol, he would become as mindless as the other morons! Then his life would be in my hands!"

Hearing Felicia purr as Bartholomew put a bow in her hair, an even grimmer plot began simmering in my great criminal brain.

"No! Bartholomew will not leave the world by my actions! He shall die at the hands of his beloved Felicia!"

It took a while, but I eventually managed to turn Bartholomew into an alcoholic and Felicia into a true villainess. They had been like brother and sister to each other, but when Bartholomew upset me yesterday, Felicia didn't hesitate for even a moment. For once, I was actually proud of her.


	8. Now That I'm At It Again

**Now That I'm At It Again**

Life was finally perfect. Felicia had learned to be a worthy companion, and my cunning always proved superior to Basil's. He interfered with my plans every time, but I always found a way to retaliate. After the initial rush of frustration, I would actually relish the challenge of outsmarting my adversary. Many years passed in this manner, but one day I realized I was out of ideas. I had already used every ingenious scheme possible.

Suddenly I realized I deserved complete authority, not just over a few worthless ruffians, but over the whole empire. I should be reigning as king. Everything I wanted would fall into my lap. I began to get excited. Treason was one crime I had never attempted. After extensive research, I found someone who would suit my plans.

Yesterday I instructed Mr. Flaversham to build a robot that perfectly resembled the queen. Felicia and I informed him of the penalty for failure; she licked her lips as I explained. At first, Flaversham was compliant, but he suddenly declared that he would rather die than assist me.

"Very well," I replied. "If that is your decision." I paused. "By the way, I'm taking the liberty of having your daughter brought here."

As he watched in horror, I crushed the doll that had been the girl's birthday present. I wanted to make sure he understood my meaning.

The next order of business was waking up Fidget and presenting him with a list of materials. "You know what to do, and no mistakes."

"No, no. No mistakes, sir." He started to read the list.

I don't know what made him think he had time to sit and analyze the list when I was in such a hurry, so I motivated him. "_NOW, Fidget!_"

He ran off nervously. "I'm going! I'm going!"

I'd had a lot of highlights during my life. I clearly recall the day I told my henchmen to capture every journalist they could find and bring them to my lair.

"I am a professor now!" I had told the journalists. "You will write it in your newspapers, and you will praise my accomplishments! Talk among yourselves so there will be no inconsistencies in the story you make up about how I became a professor."

Of course I hadn't done anything to earn the title, but after everyone read the stories about "Professor Ratigan," I was forever known by the name.

Even that triumph was minor compared to what I was about to do. My men cheered as I settled in my favorite chair and held out a cigarette for them to light.

"My friends," I began, "we are about to embark on the most odious, the most evil, the most diabolic scheme of my illustrious career! A crime to top all crimes! A crime that will live in infamy!"

They applauded.

"Tomorrow evening, our beloved monarch celebrates her Diamond Jubilee, and with the enthusiastic help of our good friend, Mr. Flaversham, it promises to be a night she will never forget!" I finally gave voice to words I had often thought but never spoken aloud. "Her last night, and my first as supreme ruler of all Mousedom!"

As I began singing, I noticed that Bartholomew was drunk, but his glass was empty. I decided to help him out, so I started a champagne fountain and kicked him into it. He still had rare moments of clear thinking when he was sober, and I didn't need any logic other than my own.

Feeling my men place their hands on me, I leaned into their arms as they spun me around. I savored every moment as they paid me my favorite compliments, calling me "the best of the worst around" and stating that "the rest fall behind to Ratigan, the world's greatest criminal mind."

I played my harp as I thought of the heavy price I had to pay for my genius. Basil had been doing everything within his power to ensure my failure, and a few times he had nearly apprehended me.

"But all that's in the past!" I assured my employees. "This time, nothing, not even Basil can stand in my way! All will bow before me!" To make sure they got the message, I pointed to the ground, even though a true king should have his subjects bow to him automatically.

That's when Bartholomew ruined everything. As my henchmen were singing, he blurted out, "To Ratigan, the world's greatest rat!"

I'd been waiting for him to mess up, but I hadn't expected his error to be quite that atrocious. I nearly choked on my drink.

"What…was…THAT?" I demanded.

Despite his hiccups and the others' protests, I threw him outside and rang the bell. I doted on Felicia, not out of genuine affection so much as to annoy my terrified henchmen.

When I finished wiping my pet's mouth, I turned to my men. "I trust there will be no further interruptions." I cleared my throat. "And now, as you were singing…"

For a brief second, they acted too frightened to sing. This irritated me, so I held up the bell. After a quick gasp, they began singing as enthusiastically as they could, bringing my mantle and placing the crown upon my head as they handed me the scepter. They concluded their song with acrobatic stunts to make sure I was entertained.

At first I couldn't understand what they meant by singing, "You're more evil than even you." I suspected they were just struggling to think of rhymes before I lost my temper again, but then I realized there was deeper meaning within their words.

First of all, they were implying that I was already the most feared criminal in Mousedom. By comparing me to myself, they were using me as the superlative of wickedness. Second, it meant I was already cruel, but this time I had really outdone myself. Finally, they had been stating that I am so malevolent that I can no longer control my own iniquity; it controls me. My brutality is so great that even I can't handle it.

Everything was going according to plan until Fidget lost the list I had given him. To make matters worse, Basil was once more attempting to interfere. The shock of facing potential failure was nearly too much to handle, but then I thought of how I could turn this into the finest opportunity I've ever had.

Now I am waiting for Basil. Flaversham has finished the robot, and I know as long as his daughter is my hostage, he won't cause any trouble. The uniforms that Fidget brought are ready for use. If Basil arrives within the next few minutes, I will finally achieve the pinnacle of success.


	9. I've Won!

**I've Won!**

"Bad night to be Basil!" Henry remarked as he tied the detective to the mousetrap.

"I'd rather be Basil than the professor," answered Lewis, tightening the ropes around the detective's obese companion.

"What makes you say that?" Robert inquired.

"After tonight, Ratigan will no longer have any power over Basil's life, or his own. The boss has money and control, but it cost him his closest friend, the only woman he ever loved, and his best henchman. I only wonder if it was worth it."

"Don't question the boss," warned Fidget. "He's not in the mood. He's been having that dream again."

"What dream?" asked Bill. "The one where he gets eaten by Felicia after Basil rings the bell?"

"That's the one!" Fidget answered.

I thought I saw Henry mouth the words, "I'd love to see that!" but I wasn't sure.

I focused on the positive events of the evening. I had seen Basil fail and humiliated him. Gloating over his defeat was one of the best moments of my life.

When I arrived at Buckingham Palace, I rang the bell to begin the queen's demise. My men helped me into my mantle and pinned the medals on me.

"Relax, Professor," they whispered whenever I voiced concern over my brilliant scheme. "It's over now. All your opposition has been crushed. Nothing can possibly go wrong."

I remind myself of that as I address the crowd, my new loyal subjects. I keep thinking I hear footsteps in the hall. I thought I heard the sound of a dog barking, followed by the screeching of a cat, but it must have been my imagination.

I continue reading from the list. "Item 96: A heavy tax shall be levied against all parasites and spongers, such as the elderly, the infirm, and especially little children!"

As they cower, I know I have seized control of all their lives. I have finally achieved ultimate power. I have conquered all!

"I am king!" I silently remind myself. "Nothing could possibly go wrong now!"

Wait a minute! What's wrong with the robot?


End file.
